


Right Royal

by Tigerine (sealink)



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Clothed Sex, Creampie, Fear of Discovery, Finger Sucking, M/M, Quickies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sealink/pseuds/Tigerine
Summary: On a trade mission to Feendrache, Aglovale slips away from an important meeting during a break and follows Siegfried down a hallway. Separated by their duties and allegiances, they have only a few moments to reconnect before Aglovale has to return to the meeting.
Relationships: Aglovale/Siegfried (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	Right Royal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ethestral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethestral/gifts).



> This was written as a birthday gift for my dear friend (and other siegaglo braincell) Cat. With her permission I am uploading it here for everyone else to enjoy. This is very loosely beta'd (by the birthday braincell herself) and small grammatical or phrasing errors may be corrected at a later date.

With only the weak light of a transom window, they can barely see each other in the closet, much less work out whose cloaks and trunks are stored here; one of the dignitaries that came to the trade summit, no doubt, given the fine clothes hanging from hooks next to them. But they aren’t paying attention to them at all, caught up in each other’s arms. Siegfried presses him first against the coats and then against the back wall, using the weight of his body to pin him there. 

“Siegfried—” 

“Following a dark, mysterious knight down a hallway? Such risky behavior, your Majesty.” Siegfried’s teeth find the sensitive skin of Aglovale’s neck.

“Don’t call me that. You’re the one taking risks,” Aglovale pants into his ear. 

“Me?” 

“You could be court-martialed.” 

“Is that all you can say?” 

“No,” Aglovale grumbles, pulling him closer for a rough kiss. They crash together, Siegfried pressing Aglovale back against the wall. Aglovale cups Siegfried’s head in both hands, opening his mouth completely to Siegfried’s tongue. Siegfried rakes his fingers over Aglovale’s ribs, pulling a shiver out of him. His breathing shudders, as if he’s caught in a blizzard. 

“That’s more like what I was expecting,” Siegfried purrs. His voice melts into Aglovale’s ears, warm and sweet.

The sound of footsteps running down the hall stills both their hands, but only for a second. Then Siegfried’s hands on either side of Aglovale’s face, devouring his frantic kisses. Aglovale arches against him, his belly pressed to Siegfried’s plated midsection. 

“Touch me again,” Aglovale says, insistent, impatient. His hands pull at the straps to Siegfried’s armor. Desperation colors his voice. “We don’t have long.”

As if to agree, a set of footsteps trots down the hall outside their coat closet, followed by two more sets. Another footman says to bring the water while the nobles are out taking the air. Aglovale stares up at the transom window, trying to work out what is being said from the mixed-up echoes in the marble halls. 

Siegfried bites his neck—not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to make a small moan leave his mouth. “Don’t get distracted,” Siegfried says, teasing pleasure in his voice. “We don’t have much time.” 

“I have to hear if—” 

In the hall, a boy’s voice calls out to hurry with the cart as Aglovale turns his head, pressing kisses to Siegfried’s temple. As the pages and footmen walk past their closet door, Siegfried gives Aglovale’s bottom an appreciative squeeze. 

“Siegfried!” Aglovale seethes, his lips crushed against his lover’s chestnut hair. 

“Don’t get distracted.” Siegfried mutters again. “Your Majesty.”

“I told you not to call me that,” Aglovale complains, but his fingers are already unbuckling the leather belts that will loosen Siegfried’s plate armor. 

Siegfried’s fingers busily pop each button out of Aglovale’s silk dress coat. “Not showing proper respect to a foreign dignitary here on a state visit could get me court-martialed.” 

Aglovale tosses a pauldron into the hanging coats in the closet, where it lands next to another pauldron and knocks against two black plate gauntlets with a muffled clank. “You would never be court-martialed.” 

“If I’d done something wrong, I’d request it,” Siegfried answers, getting the last button undone and wrenching the coat off of Aglovale’s shoulders. The gold-embroidered blue coat joins the pauldrons. 

“Your mail—” Aglovale reaches for Siegfried’s chain shirt. 

“There’s no time for that. They only called a recess for fifteen minutes.” Aglovale makes a wounded face, and Siegfried tugs at his over-dramatic lower lip with a kiss. “I’ll be able to see you in a few days, when I’m not on duty at night.”

“You should ask to guard my room,” Aglovale urges. 

“There wouldn’t be any guarding being done,” Siegfried quips back. 

“That is the _point_.” 

Siegfried pulls up the front of his chain shirt and starts to unlace his breeches. “And let a foreign king be the target of villains or scofflaws who wish to take revenge?” He tucks the length of chain mail into one of the leather belts that cross his chest plate. 

“Are you saying you couldn’t stop them?” 

“I definitely could, if I was awake,” Siegfried replies. “But I will wear myself out in your bed and then anyone could do as he liked and I would not be able to lift a finger.” 

“Would you prefer to do it with someone else guarding my room, then?” It’s the crudest Aglovale has been yet, challenging Siegfried to bed him while his colleagues stand guard outside none the wiser.

Siegfried palms Aglovale through the front of his breeches, stroking his length and watching his eyelashes flutter. “Not really,” he says lazily. “You’re not as loud if you know someone is listening.” 

Aglovale pushes his hips up, sliding his erection through Siegfried’s hand. “Someone that’s not you.” 

“You put in special effort for me?” Siegfried’s lips quirk in a feline smile. “Such flattery from the Lord of Frost.” 

“You will come see me, won’t you?” Aglovale pleads earnestly, not even responding to that gentle rib from Siegfried. “Don’t let _this_ be the only time we have together.” 

“Yes,” Siegfried croons into another kiss, just as earnestly. “I’ll come.” 

Aglovale kisses him again, his arms garlanding Siegfried’s strong shoulders. Siegfried’s callused hands wad up the extra material in Aglovale’s blouse as he pushes the shirt up over his chest. He deftly tucks the fabric through the collar to keep it out of the way. Meanwhile, Aglovale can barely manage to unbutton his own breeches, his fingers fumbling as Siegfried nibbles at his neck. He barely has them undone before Siegfried turns him around and presses him against the wall. 

“Going to put it there?” 

“If Your Majesty doesn’t object,” Siegfried teases him, but his own voice is raw with need. 

“Hurry,” Aglovale shudders as Siegfried’s fingers pull apart his ass. 

Siegfried tests Aglovale’s hole; he’s already a little soft, as if he’s spent time readying himself before. “Hmm?” 

Aglovale tosses his head, moving his hair aside. “What is it?” 

“Down here, it almost looks like you _expected_ me to drag you off into a closet,” Siegfried says, his fingers dimpling Aglovale’s soft buttocks while his thumb teases the thin, sensitive skin between them. 

“Siegfried!” Aglovale hisses, but all he gets in response to his embarrassment is a pleased chuckle. In the gloom, he hears the pop of a cork being pulled from a small bottle. Siegfried has it in his teeth; he spits it away and then drizzles something cold into the valley of Aglovale’s ass. Aglovale squirms against the pad of his finger, then lets out a groan as Siegfried pushes a fingertip inside him. 

“You _did_ prepare.” 

Aglovale stiffens. “I thought you might come to my room last night…” He sounds almost timid. Last night, had he waited for Siegfried to show up at his window, only to be disappointed when he never darkened his door?

Regret for the night they could have had only heats up Siegfried’s gaze as he watches Aglovale’s blond hair sliding over his creamy back, curving along his narrow waist. His finger slips deeper inside him, finds that sensitive spot he knows so well, as if it’s not been months, but hours since the last time they made love. Aglovale gasps, bracing himself against the wall. 

“And then this morning as well?” 

“Siegfried!” Aglovale sounds positively scandalized. 

Siegfried widens Aglovale’s hole, watching it try to close up when he eases the pressure. “If I’d known the King of Wales would be this demanding…” 

Aglovale whines, pressing his hands against the wall. He can’t defend himself against Siegfried’s words; he _is_ demanding, wanting to be fucked silently in a cloakroom instead of being patient and waiting a few nights. He’s waited for months. He should be able to wait a little longer. 

But then the heat of Siegfried’s cock rests in the cleft of his ass and he knows he couldn’t have waited even another minute. Days would be an eternity. As the head of Siegfried’s cock stretches out Aglovale’s hole, a pent-up emotion inside him lets down. At last, at last, he’s full— _filled—_ and not by something cold and lifeless, or his own inadequate fingers. Siegfried is heavy against him. Aglovale locks his legs to take the weight of Siegfried’s dick sinking into him. 

Siegfried moves his hand to Aglovale’s hip, holding him steady. “You’re quiet,” Siegfried murmurs, a catch in his breathing. 

“Who would want to draw attention to themselves right now?” Aglovale whispers. Siegfried slips forward suddenly, and an oath falls out of Aglovale’s mouth. “By the skies…” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes, just don’t stop.” He’s not begging, he _won’t_ beg. 

Siegfried grabs the little bottle again, working its slick contents into Aglovale with small, short movements. Slowly, they change from tense and exploratory to long, delicious strokes that establish a rhythm. That aching stretch, that fullness with a sharp edge, sword-callused fingers clamped around his hip. Siegfried’s breath gusts into Aglovale’s hair. The flesh of Aglovale’s flank shakes as Siegfried pulls him back to meet his thrust. Aglovale hangs his head between his arms. It is so good to be his. 

“I’ll go slow,” Siegfried says. 

Aglovale can only groan in reply. As Siegfried moves, Aglovale rolls his hips, making sure every thrust grazes that lust-lush spot inside him. Pressing his face against his hand that’s flattened on the wall, Aglovale reaches between his legs and starts to tug at his cock. 

Outside, another footman hurries past, but Siegfried and Aglovale, ensconced in their own world, barely seem to notice. Everywhere Siegfried touches, Aglovale’s skin tingles. He holds back his voice, but his mouth still opens in a pantomime of the sounds he’d like to make. 

“Siegfried,” he whispers with his tightened throat, reaching back to pull Siegfried into him. He strokes himself more urgently, his fingers tightening over the head of his erection.

Siegfried reaches up and pulls Aglovale’s chin so that he is looking over his shoulder. One finger slides over his kiss-bruised bottom lip. Then he pulls Aglovale’s jaw down and pushes his first two fingers inside, onto his tongue. 

“Ah—” Aglovale’s voice comes out just for a moment before he bites it back. Siegfried’s fingers move at the same rate as his cock, invading his mouth and his ass at the same time. It’s not so much a mockery of sex as an echo; Aglovale closes his eyes and leans into the pressure in his mouth, the wet slide of Siegfried’s fingers against his lips. With his tongue, he rubs against the rough callus on Siegfried’s forefinger, sucks away the salt from his skin. Siegfried’s hips slowly still. Aglovale looks back at him to find Siegfried watching him with eyes like coals. 

Siegfried pulls his fingers away, a silver thread dripping from Aglovale’s lips. Aglovale stares at him for several long seconds. Inside him, he feels Siegfried’s cock twitch upward strongly. Siegfried begins to move again, and this time he’s possessed. He slams forward, holding on to Aglovale’s hips with both hands, without a care for the yelp that Aglovale barely manages to muffle. Aglovale braces himself, but Siegfried nearly crushes him with the force of his body.

Voices float in through the transom window. “They’re ready to begin again. Where is King Aglovale?” 

“I haven’t seen him.”   
  
“Check the south-facing garden.” 

The cloaks hanging around them muffle the sounds of slapping flesh, the soft jingle of Siegfried’s mail shirt. Aglovale presses his mouth against his forearm on the wall. He doesn’t even have to roll his hips any more; Siegfried finds the angle that sends waves of pleasure crashing through him. A tortured expression twists Aglovale’s face. He’s close, getting closer. His cock drizzles the floor in front of him and he reaches back, his breathing coming short and fast. “Siegfried!” he whispers urgently. 

Then his knees shake as his come splatters on the wall and the floor below him. He doesn’t make a sound.

Siegfried leans forward, pressing a kiss between Aglovale’s shoulder blades. Siegfried’s arms wind around Aglovale like vines, pulling at his nipples and teasing the sensitive skin of his ribs.

 _Mine, mine_ , he says with covetous hands that hold Aglovale and keep him from pulling away from his relentless love. Siegfried shudders and then grunts, pressing their bodies flush together. Aglovale leans his head back onto Siegfried’s shoulder, and Siegfried presses a kiss to his earlobe. They hang together in that blissful post-orgasm space for only a moment.

“You finished inside,” Aglovale says with an admonishing tone. 

“Sorry,” Siegfried replies, his breathing heavy. He pulls out and steps away, already tucking himself back inside his breeches. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” 

“Get dressed,” Siegfried says, already tucking himself back inside his breeches. 

Aglovale unwinds his shirt from his collar, wincing in dismay at the uncertain slide inside him as Siegfried’s load moves down. Shoving the shirt down into his breeches, he dresses himself again as quickly as he can, putting his silk coat back on and fumbling with the buttons. 

“How many nights until you can visit me?” 

Siegfried puts his pauldrons back on his shoulders. “Three, including tonight.” They switch tasks, Siegfried rebuttoning Aglovale’s coat, and Aglovale tightening the straps of his armor. 

Aglovale smooths down his hair, trying to feel for any knots their passionate tryst has made. “How do I look?” 

Siegfried pauses in putting his gauntlets back on, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “Amazing.” 

“Siegfried!” 

“You don’t look like you’ve been ravished in a closet, if that’s what you mean.” 

“Good,” Aglovale says. “I’ll leave first. You leave a few minutes later.” Then he leans forward and claims Siegfried’s mouth in a lingering kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you.” 

Siegfried smiles into the kiss. “Go, before they suspect.” 

Aglovale gives him one last look, drinking him in as if these heated minutes in a closet had done nothing to slake his thirst. Then he opens the door a tiny crack. After seeing that no one is there, he slips out into the hall. 


End file.
